What would you do if you knew you could not fail?
I “happened” to be at the right place and time when I heard this question was posed. It’s not the first time I’ve heard it, although it was the first time in a while. It had the same impact it always does. It unsettled me.
When I hear that question I immediately feel a vibration. Tension. Something that lets me know I’m not quite in alignment. There’s something I should be doing, but I’m not. I always brush it off. Avoid it. Continue with whatever I was doing at the moment. Last night was no different, although I did eventually think about that question today. More on my answer in a minute.
As for the question, a friend seemed to think it’s all about fear. In other words the question really is: What would you do if you weren’t afraid to fail? But after some reflection, I’m not sure that’s all there is to it. The question I think is really: What would you be doing if you were living your divine purpose? If you were doing the exact perfect thing that only you can do? If you were contributing to the world exactly what you were born to contribute (and therefore could. not. fail.), what would it be? If there were ZERO chance of failure in an endeavor, what would you do?
When I consider the question from a standpoint of fear or avoidance – what am I scared to do because I might suck at it – the quick and obvious answer usually comes back as something related to creative writing. But when I think about it from the standpoint of purpose, I’m actually not so sure. I’m realizing that all of my talents and interests, although seemingly unrelated, all fit together in a perfect tapestry. I’ve spent so many years complaining I was a jack of all trades and a master of none, that I’ve never considered how they all complement each other.
I’m coming to understand, and I think deep down some part of me knows the answer, but I’ve never been still enough long enough to discover it. My work now is to really figure out the true answer to the question, and then actually do it. After all, failure really isn’t an option, but I at least have to get started, no?
i’m not sure how to answer that for myself… continuing on after failure has been a fairly regular part of my adult life, so i don’t know what i would particularly do differently with failure removed as an option.
that relates to the interesting question of scope that your spin on it brings up. if you knew that you would not fail to achieve the grand purpose of your life, would failure at any particular endeavor along the way even matter?
“if you knew that you would not fail to achieve the grand purpose of your life, would failure at any particular endeavor along the way even matter?”
good question. i think the answer is no, but that’s the way i view the world anyway. all events in life – failure and successes – are learning opportunities. so failure only matters to the extent we let it. but as humans, many of us let failure paralyze us from moving forward. many see a brick wall as simply a boundary, rather than considering the great expanse on the other side of it.